I Attempt From Love's Sickness to Fly
by Scandalacious Intentions
Summary: "I can't promise you wealth," he warns her. "In fact, I can only offer you poverty and I certainly cannot promise you good health. I'm not convinced I can even offer you happiness, but I want you to know that I have never been surer of anything than I am of my love for you."


**Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own any of this. If I did, I would not be sat in my uni room, wishing I had something other than pasta for dinner.  
A/N: A very long time ago, so long that you might stop and say, "That was a very long time ago", I promised I would rewrite this. And finally, because I'm hopelessly homesick and necessarily charged, I am.  
A/N: The title comes from Purcell's **_**The Indian Queen**_ **. "I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain/Since I am myself my own fever and pain."  
A/N: And also, notice, my first technically canon-compliant little oneshot and I have been hugely surprised by the immediate difference between the man Lupin's father usually is and Lyall. In many ways, for those of you familiar with him, I would bloody love to have written that one scene for John.**

With McGonagall's departure, the silence that descended was immediate and all-consuming. Only Mrs. Weasley's breathy tears dared to break it. She smiled through them at the woman who had finally proved herself to her, but if Fleur noticed this, she did not shift her gaze from Bill.

"Right." Tonks ran her hands through her limp hair, pushing it out of her face. She left them at the base of her neck, her bony elbows jutting out as though daring any of them to come closer. "Well, if nobody has any objections, I think I'll be off. I've humiliated myself enough for one night." Briefly, she smiled, but it didn't quite reach her dull, deep-set grey eyes. "I very much hope that Bill's up and about soon and er…well, thank you, Molly."

She turned quickly, without waiting for a response, and headed toward the door, staring pointedly at the floor as she stepped into the long and wiry shadow of Remus Lupin.

"Where are you going?"

Startled, her eyes jumped up to meet his. And for a moment, registering the concern in his tone, she almost softened. "Does it matter?" He averted his eyes and she laughed bitterly. "Didn't think so."

She took a deep breath to steady herself as the sound of his footsteps behind her in the corridor rang in her ears.

"Wait!"

Tonks trudged steadily on without turning to so much as look at him for fear it weaken her resolve, but sighed in immense relief when she heard him speed up.

"Nymphadora, please."

She swung round sharply and spat, "What? What can we possibly have to say to each other? What do you _want_?"

"I don't know."

Tonks threw up her arms in defeat. "Well, I'll tell you what I know. I'm not going to wait around for you until you do. Because it's not helping either of us. But I'll tell you something else, those people are my friends too and if you think I'm going to conveniently disappear from your life, you can think again. This is my social life and this is my job. Nobody, not even you, is going to take those things away from me. So yes, you will likely see me at Christmastime and you will likely see me on official business. It's awkward, but that's life. I keep telling you I am a grown woman and I can make my own decisions, but it's high time you acknowledged everything you accuse yourself of. You're right. You're older than me and it's about time you took some responsibility for your own fucking actions."

She clasped a hand to her mouth as though trying to trap her words, but it was, they both knew it, far too late to pretend these things had not been said.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "but I _do_ mean it. All of it. It needed to be said."

Lupin nodded, wordlessly.

"Goodnight, Remus."

"Should that be 'goodbye'?"

She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. "I don't know. As I said, you'll still be seeing me."

She had thought he might make one final play for her, a grand gesture to win her over, but she supposed she oughtn't to have been surprised when he only nodded his acquiescence. Not trusting herself to speak, Tonks turned on her heel and attempted to at least make it to the next corner before the tears of frustration and hopelessness fell.

* * *

"Remus! Well, this _is_ a surprise. Come in, come in!" His father ushered him in as though there was a storm raging outside the front door rather than the seasonal warmth and blistering sunshine of a July evening. "Now, I've not made up a bed. I wish you'd let me know when you were coming. Not that I'm complaining – it's nice to see you – but I mean, I could have been out."

"But you weren't."

"And I'm not sure where the spare bedclothes are."

"I won't be needing a bed. I'm going back to London." His father's face fell and Lupin hurriedly backtracked. "Not that I'm in a rush."

The kettle whistled and Lyall darted across the kitchen, lifting it from the stove as the steam threatened to fill the enclave above the AGA in the compact cottage kitchen. "You're always arriving just when I'm making tea. I'm starting to think some kind of internal alarm goes off when this kettle is boiling."

Forgetting everything, even the miserable reason he was there, Lupin grinned. It felt like an alien gesture. How long, he wondered, had it been since he genuinely smiled? How long had he been away from home? Months? Years? He took a seat at the kitchen table and ran his hands along the smooth edge, desperate for something to do. "I'll try to visit more often. I'm sorry. I've just been…" Wondering how to tell his father he had had to spend months in Greyback's company, he trailed off. "Busy. I've been busy."

"How are you taking your tea these days?"

"Just with a lemon if you've got it."

"May I remind you that you live in Yorkshire? Your choices are milk and sugar."

Lupin laughed good-naturedly. "No milk, three sugars then please."

Lyall turned, the iron kettle swinging dangerously from his left hand. "No milk? Your tea used to be the colour of bloody fudge. I'm surprised it _isn't_ bloody fudge. Three sugars? Three!"

"I'll keep it short," said Lupin as a mug of sweet tea was placed in front of him. "Thank you." He blew the steam down the table, playing for time. "I did come for something specific and I understand if you can't give it to me or you can't find it."

Lyall leaned forward in his seat. "What do you need?"

"Mum's ring."

* * *

There was, he thought later, every chance that she wouldn't be in. Why should she be? She was a young and beautiful woman in a lively city. The red brick building in Piccadilly loomed over him as he waited outside, glancing up to the third floor, wondering if there were lights on. They did not blaze, but a soft glow hinted to her presence and so he forced himself to climb the three flights of stairs that stood between them.

His knock was not immediately answered. Lupin wondered whether she guessed it would be him and wanted to make him wait. He was just starting to think she had absolutely no intention of answering the door when she did just that.

"You're looking well," she said. Her bloodshot eyes were framed by swollen red lids. He did not return the compliment.

"Can I come in?"

Tonks blew the air out of her cheeks, less than enthused by the prospect. "I'm not sure it's a good idea, but I say that every time." She stepped aside to let him pass, still at pains not to touch him. "Have a seat."

"No, I think I'll cut straight to it."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Fantastic. Just let me close the door or are you going to be running out of it so fast there's no point?"

She raised her eyebrows at him pointedly and Lupin only returned the gesture. She was unsurprised that she dropped her eyes first and closed the door. She had never been able to let him go.

"I went home."

"For two days?"

"For a little while, yes. I needed to think. And I needed to find…" He trailed off, realising this was not how he had planned to go about this. "Listen, I'd like to start again."

Tonks gestured for him to go ahead. "You don't mind if I sit down though?" She immediately dropped to the sofa, sitting with crossed arms and legs, without waiting for a response. "Right. Go on."

Lupin sighed softly. "You were right."

Tonks uncrossed her arms and tucked her hands under her thighs. "About what?"

"Everything really." He pressed his lips tightly together for a moment as though to stop something else from spilling out. "This wasn't how I imagined it and I'd like to do it again – properly – if you'll let me, but I know that I need to prove this to you and I'm not sure I'll get the chance again if I don't do it now."

Tonks scrambled to her feet as he dropped to one knee. "No!"

Lupin, unsure where to look, chose the sideboard in the far corner of the room. "No?"

"No. For Merlin's sake, get up." She clasped a hand to her mouth and removed it only to add, "Sit down. I'll get the whiskey out."

When she returned from the kitchen, carrying a nearly exhausted supply of Firewhiskey, Lupin was perched on the edge of the seat, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together as though in silent prayer. Pouring him a large measure, she said, "This is something you have to be sure about."

"Thank you." He knocked back the glass and rested it on his knee. "Jesus wept, that was strong."

"Yeah, well it's had about six extra years to mature by now. I don't get it out very often – as an actor said to a bishop." She nudged him gently, playfully almost. "Listen, it's not that I don't want to marry you. If I thought you meant it, I'd marry you tonight. But you don't, Remus." He opened his mouth to speak and she quieted him with a mere glance. "You might think you do now, but you've said all kinds of things before you've walked out of that door before. And I refuse to accept a marriage proposal when everyone is going to see that ring, notice that I've had to take it off, and know what a bloody fool I've been. Yet again."

"I _have_ thought about it and I _do_ mean it. I've spent days thinking about it and on reflection, I'm not sure I want to live another one without knowing that you're a permanent fixture."

Tonks smiled sadly. "But you have to see that that's rich, don't you? You have to hear your own hypocrisy."

"I know," he said softly. "And I know that it's all very well telling you that I love you when I'm losing you. I thought I'd need to show you."

Tonks laughed. "And your first thought was a proposal?"

"Well, you know what they say. Desperate times…"

"You cheeky bastard!"

Despite himself, Lupin laughed. He was still laughing when she ran a small and delicate, but calloused hand along his jaw, turning his face to hers. But he soon stopped when she caught his lips between hers and slowly, softly released them.

"Stay."

Lupin swallowed. "The night? Or forever?"

"Both."

* * *

After the funeral, their lovemaking is frantic - as though the end of the world will be upon them before they know it. His hands tangle a touch too firmly in her hair; she rips her knickers in the desperate fumble to get out of them. He tells her he loves her as her name is ripped from his throat and she responds by squeezing him tighter. And after that, there isn't much left to say so they lie beside one another, still gasping for breath.

He takes her to Yorkshire, to what looks more like the remains of a cottage than a home, and while he packs his things, promises to take her to Spurn Point as that's precisely what she had done to him. Tonks laughs, but it's hollow. It has been only a matter of days since she turned him down and since, he has been a constant presence in her life. So constant, so sincere, that she wishes she were wearing his ring, that the man who has just made her scream gibberish into her pillow as though speaking in tongues, was going to be her husband.

He is serious. The water is bluer than she has ever seen it on the shores of Britain and it surrounds her. They stand on a stretch of land that seems to be at the end of the world. He has not let go of her hand and still, despite this, she aches for him.

The air tastes of salt and a grassy almost citrusy scent hangs in it. The sun is low enough in the sky to provide light without the steady thrum of unbearable heat that has plagued London for weeks. The sea laps gently at the pier and gulls call to one another above the water. Time and Nature themselves seem to be operating for her alone.

And it seems a shame to waste it.

"If I was going to ask you to do something reckless and impulsive right here and right now, would you do it?"

Lupin stops, small and shallow lines appearing on his forehead. "I think that would depend on our definitions of reckless and impulsive."

"Will you marry me?"

"Will _you_ marry _me_? Because last time we discussed this, which was only a few days ago, you were vehemently against it."

Tonks winces. "See, showing up with a ring doesn't mean anything. Showing up with a box of your things though?" Her fingers slot between the gaps in his. "I mean, that seems a lot more concrete, don't you think?"

Lupin stares out to sea, seemingly steeling himself. "Is that a yes?"

"I believe I asked you, actually."

"Ah, but I asked you first."

Tonks smirks. "And I gave you an answer."

"You told me that this wasn't something I ought to enter into without a great deal of thought…" He trails off, still unable to meet her eye. Tonks feels the air rush out of her lungs and is unable to replace it. "And before either of us commits to something they wish they hadn't, are you quite sure you want to do this?"

Tonks nods. "But if you aren't, you need to say it now." Her eyes blaze with fear and fury. "I can't live my life wondering if you're going to disappear. I need to know that if you love me, you won't leave me and you've got me wondering, yet again, whether what you feel for me is anything like what I feel for you. And that terrifies me."

"I meant to take it home, but I never really got the chance." Lupin smiles sadly and reaches into a pocket on the inside of his coat. The tiny box he pulls out is covered in midnight blue velvet. His father, in his days of courtship, was not a conventional man and the ring inside is not a diamond, but a pearl.

"I can't promise you wealth," he warns her. "In fact, I can only offer you poverty and I certainly cannot promise you good health. I'm not convinced I can even offer you happiness, but I want you to know that I have never been surer of anything than I am of my love for you."

"I'm not sure who's asking who anymore."

"Well," says Lupin, "it's probably not going to suit me."

Tonks holds out her left hand. "I think you'd better put it on me then."


End file.
